


Psittacosaurus

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 03:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Dorks in bed.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 13
Kudos: 111





	Psittacosaurus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis always knows when Prompto’s drunk too much of Ignis’ secret Ebony stash, because he keeps Noctis up with stupid shit like, “What if we were dinosaurs.”

Noctis can’t even answer that at first. He was halfway off to dreamland, but his boyfriend’s voice has ripped him back, and it takes his sleep-ridden mind a second to process the words. Then he mumbles into his pillow, “Go to sleep, Prom.”

“But like... _what if we were dinosaurs_?”

“Then we’d be dinosaurs. Go to sleep.”

Prompto snorts. It’s a cute sound, but not cute enough to make Noctis forgive him for the horrible transgression of interrupting Noctis in bed. As far as Noctis is concerned, his mattress is sacred ground, and there are only two acceptable actions on it. He doesn’t have the energy for the first one. He can feel Prompto squirming beside him; the blankets shift and rustle. Noctis refuses to open his eyes. Prompto’s warmth gets closer, curling up against his back, but even that won’t stir Noctis. 

“Do you think we’d be gay dinosaurs?”

If he hadn’t spent all night with Prompto playing video games on the couch and drinking nothing but pop and coffee, he would think Prompto was actually drunk. It’s the only explanation for such stupidity. That, or Prompto’s talking in his sleep, which would make Noctis extremely jealous, because it would mean Prompto was actually asleep while he’s awake.

Prompto presses, “Noct—”

So Noctis grumbles, “Of course we’d be gay dinosaurs.”

“I’d be one of those badass long neck guys. The bronchiosaurus or something.”

“Brachiosaurus.” 

“Yeah, that one. And you’d be like a cute raptor, and I’d wrap my neck around you all protectively—”

“I will literally pay you to shut up and sleep.”

Prompto laughs again. It’s low and gentle but gets interrupted by a yawn, which fills Noctis up with hope. It doesn’t help that he’s already picturing it: both of them in giant reptile bodies, enveloping each other in their scaly tails. Or feathered tails. Or whatever. They’d sleep together in a lush nest somewhere deep in the jungle, hiding from Imperial predators, except Gladiolus would be a giant tyrannosaurus rex that always looked out for them. And Ignis would be a lemur or something.

“Noct—”

“_Prom_.”

“I love you.”

Prompto’s arm squirms under him, another tossing over his side. Prompto sidles up close, spooning him from behind, and _that_, Noctis can handle. He’s always liked having Prompto wrapped around him; it makes him feel weirdly safe and sound. It’s hard to snap at Prompto after such a sweet confession.

Prompto kisses the back of his neck and thankfully doesn’t talk again until the morning.


End file.
